I walked past Del, Tony, Mark, and Andrew, paper folded carefully to hide the drawing, and headed down the sidewalk to show my friends. I didn’t have to walk very far to find them, as Jess was in Melissa’s front yard, hands on her hips, looking as distraught as I was.

I jogged over to them and saw that they were each holding a slip of paper. My heart thudded as I wordlessly held up Emily’s drawing. Jess lifted her hand: Summer had drawn the same one. Melissa’s hand shook as she unfolded her paper with the same drawing, one from each of her twins.

“Our kids” was all I managed to say.

Melissa was visibly trembling, and I stepped forward and put an arm around her shoulders, which she shrugged away. I looked to Jess, who slowly sat down on the lawn, dead brown spots all around her like markings for a grave.

I looked down at the paper again, before I crumpled it up and then ripped it into pieces, the confetti sprinkling the lawn. I took a deep breath and then sat down on the lawn next to Jess.

I had a choice at that moment. I could give in and accept that I had lost someone else close to me. Maybe that was my lot in life—to keep trying to save my loved ones but always losing. June, Liz—who would be next?

I couldn’t accept it. I looked up at my friends, an idea forming. “This can’t be the only time something strange happened at Liz’s house, right?” Neither of them made eye contact, but I continued. “Who lived in the house before Liz? Maybe if we talk to them, we can find out if they experienced anything out of the ordinary, and if so, how they stopped or prevented it.”

Melissa slowly sat down, the three of us forming a triangle on the dead lawn. “I really can’t do this anymore. Everything we do seems to make things worse. I had to delete the Ring camera footage so Tony wouldn’t completely flip out, and no way am I going to show him these drawings.” She shoved the papers back in her pocket.

Jess sprang up, letting Summer’s paper fall to the ground. Without a word, she pivoted and jogged across the street. We watched as she stopped at Nancy Johnson’s house, rapping on the door loudly. Nancy and her husband had lived in their house for decades, their family one of the founders of the neighborhood. After a moment, Nancy answered the door, and we heard the sounds of a murmured conversation.

“I found out who lived in Liz’s place before,” Jess said as she ran back. She looked at me and put her hands on her hips. “It was Marianne Baker.”

CHAPTER
29